I’m getting less and less into these bar nights of “picking up chicks with the dudes” every time we go out, and it’s making me feel more and more like a wimp. I don’t know what it is – whether it’s just the fact that I’m getting tired of darts and pool and drinking beer every single weekend, or if it’s just that picking up on girls doesn’t do it for me anymore.
Out of all the guys, I’m the only one who has the balls to go and approach a girl, so it’s not like there’s a whole lot of fun to it anyway. The game should be renamed from Pick up Chicks to Watch Russ Pick up Chicks.
“That one over there, bro,” Tyler says, pointing at a bored-looking blonde by the bar, whose friend is clearly ignoring her while being chatted up by some jock-looking dude in the middle of buying her a drink. “She’s totally primed up.”
“Primed up?” I laugh, taking a sip of my Old Fashioned. “Sounds more like a race car.”
“She might be, man,” Nate chuckles. “Never know until you give her a ride.”
Beside him, Jim bursts out laughing. Out of the three of them, Jim loves the dad jokes the most.
“Why don’t you go ask her out, Nate?” I ask, wrapping my arm around his neck. “Or are you too afraid with your movie-star good looks?”
I’m laying the sarcasm on thick, and all the other guys know it and start laughing. Nate laughs and shrugs, leaning into the joke with a nod. “You know me. I don’t want to ruin the chances for all the other guys at the bar.”
“Right,” I reply, rolling my eyes as I finish my drink. “I need a refill. I’ll be right back.”
I get up from our booth and go up to the bar. I’m leaning there waiting when a new bartender comes out from the back. Our eyes meet, and he stops dead in his tracks, cocks his head to one side and points. “Russell?”
“Eric?”
I recognize him immediately as an old buddy from way back in high school. “Hey, man!” I exclaim. “What the – how the hell are ya?”
Laughing, we shake heartedly, and he comes around the bar to give me a hug. “I’m good, man, how are you? Still a teacher?”
I nod. “Yup, still teaching. My fiancée just left me for my lawyer, but other than that, I’m great!”
“Shit, man,” he grumbles. “Life’s a bitch sometimes, ain’t it?”
“Tell me about it.” I nod. “So you’re tending bar?”
“Yeah, kinda,” he replies. “On my way out, though. Just came for my tips. Heading to my other job.”
“Working two jobs? Damn, man. You’re hustling.”
Eric glances from side to side before moving closer and lowering his voice. “Let me ask you something, Russ. Can I still trust you?”
“What?” I chuckle. “Of course you can, man. Who was it that covered for you when Miss Jenkins was looking for the kid who rigged the toilets in the girls’ bathroom?”
Eric laughs and nods. “All right, fair. Listen, my other job isn’t much different than this one.”
“You’re tending bar?”
“Serving drinks,” he replies. “At…high end, upscale parties for the elites.”
“Elites?” I don’t even really know what to say, so I just sort of look at him for a second to see if he smirks to let me know he’s kidding. But the seconds tick by, and he doesn’t. “What are you talking about, man?”
“Super wealthy guys,” Eric replies, a twinkle in his eye. “And women you would not believe hired to entertain them.”
“Entertain?” I repeat.
He nods. “Yeah. You know what I mean.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Eric’s nods become more enthusiastic. “Some just dance – others, well…”
I hear a commotion behind us and turn to see Jim, Nate, and Tyler waving their hands in my direction, clearly wanting me to join them and get back to putting on a display of picking up girls for them. I hold up my index finger and turn back to Eric.
“So high priced escorts?” I say.
“Basically, yeah,” Eric replies. “The highest of the high. I’m talking ex-models, actresses. I had to sign an NDA when I took the job.”
“You’re screwing with me,” I laugh, shoving him in the shoulder. But Eric just shakes his head in reply.
“I’m dead serious, bro. In fact, I’m on my way there tonight. If you wanted me to get you in for old time’s sake…”
Suddenly my heart rate is rising, and the boring evening I saw in front of me seems not so boring. If what Eric is saying is true, this could be a once in a lifetime chance to see behind the curtain of a part of society that people speak about but I never actually believed existed. Something that you only ever see represented in movies.
I’ve come to this same dive bar a million times with the boys, and if I say no to Eric and stick around, I know I’m just going to end up going over to some poor girl and giving her some dumb pickup line to see how she responds just so the boys can laugh about it. And even if she does end up giving me her number – which I doubt – I won’t end up calling her anyway, as I’m never in the dating mood since Cheryl ran off on me with Barry.
I guess after that happened, I kind of put women on the backburner for a while. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like going to a party filled with ex-models and actresses and the highest priced escorts in the world who serve the elite just to take a look. Even a man who isn’t hungry doesn’t mind watching a world-class chef cook a Michelin-star meal, right?
“All right, Eric,” I say with a smile. “You’re on.”
I arrive at the house a half-an-hour after Eric, who had to get there before me because it’s his job, and also because I had to go home and get the nicest suit I own, which I only bring out for special occasions. The boys weren’t too happy about me bailing on them, but I lied and told them my stomach was suddenly feeling bad, and I’d catch up with them later.
The house is an enormous stone mansion out in the middle of the Connecticut woods that looks like it was built by master masons when America was first being founded. Parked inside the fenced-in courtyard are expensive cars that I can barely even begin to name, and I pull up in my old beat-up Corolla that the men at the door clearly glance at as I get out and walk up.
“Evening,” I say. “I’m Ru-Russell. Eric’s friend.”
They glance at me, each other, then back at me. Then one of them produces a tablet. “NDA,” he says simply. “Sign it.”
Part of me wants to read over it and be sure of what it is I’m signing, but I’m also pretty sure that if I don’t sign this, or if I make a big stink out of reading over it, I’m just not going to get in. So I run my finger across the signature line at the bottom as I’m told.
This seems to satisfy the man, who claps the case shut on the tablet and moves aside as the other man opens the door for me. The sound of classical music emanates from within, and the soft glow of warm light spills out onto the steps.
“Enjoy your evening, sir,” the man says.
“Thank you,” I reply.
As I step into the house, I realize that everything Eric told me back at the bar was true. It’s as though I’m stepping into a completely different world.
There are gorgeous women everywhere. Some of them are clothed, some of them are not. The ones that are are wearing incredible lingerie, stockings and garters, and all of them have heels. It’s like someone rounded up all of the Victoria’s Secret models, the Miss Universes, and all the pageant winners from every state and brought them here.
There are men in suits walking around too, some of them with a girl on their arm, and some just sitting with a drink in their hand. I feel instantly out of place, just in the way my car was out front with the rest of the incredible supercars and luxury cruisers. I hand my coat to a man standing beside me and head into the room on my right, hoping to find Eric.
I end up in a lounge style room with couches and recliners and a man at a grand piano playing soft jazz. Seated are many kingly men with half-naked women on their laps, and spread across the room are couples dancing to the music.
I move through it and several other similar rooms filled with other beautiful, half-naked women until I find the bar. Eric spots me and raises his hand. He’s dressed a lot more dapper than earlier, in a suit and a bow tie, and is just finishing up serving a man with a model hanging from his shoulder.
“Hey, you made it!” He smiles.
“This is nuts,” I whisper. “How does this exist?”
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he chuckles.
“What do you mean?” I ask. I already feel as though I’ve been teleported into another world. I can’t even imagine there being more to this place.
“You’ve seen the dancers, right?” Eric asks. I nod. “Well, they’ve got girls who will go all the way with ya for the right price. They’ve even got girls selling off their v-cards here, bro.”
“What!?” I exclaim. Eric quickly motions for me to keep my voice down. I lean in and speak softly. “Are you serious?”
Eric nods, his eyes blazing. “I sure am. If I had a bit more cash like you, maybe I’d partake.”
From the other end of the bar, a man waves, and Eric raises his eyebrows at me before sliding off to serve him. I’m sort of still in shock from what I’ve just heard but am eager to see more of the house and everything going on, so I slip out the nearest door to investigate further and find myself in a dimly lit room like a library, each wall filled with books from floor to ceiling. This room has even more men, and at the center of the room, with countless eyes on her, is the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.
She moves like beauty itself. I stop dead in my tracks the moment I set eyes on her. She doesn’t even seem real. It’s as though some videogame developer created her for his game and then she somehow got transported here into our world.
Her long, brunette hair spills down over her shoulders like water and drifts back and forth as she sways her curvaceous hips from side to side. I’m mesmerized as I stand there staring like I’ve had a spell cast over me, possessed by her curves, feeling my body go hot and my cock stiffen beneath by pants.
Who is this girl? Where did she come from?
All the other men in the room seem taken by her too. Instantly, a fiery jealousy comes over me, and I want none of them looking at her. It’s like a madness has come over me out of nowhere. A complete starvation for this woman dancing in front of me.
I haven’t had even the slightest lusting for a woman in the eight months since Cheryl left me. Every time I went and approached one of those girls at the bar and ran a line on her, it was just a show for the boys. But now, it’s like I’m completely desperate for this girl.
She’s mine. Mine and no one else’s.
This dance she’s doing is for me. She thought it up just for me. Not for these rich, spoiled sons of bitches sitting around here with their millions of dollars in their bank accounts and their supercars sitting out front.
Me.
And just to prove it, since all the other men seem content to just be sitting there watching her dance, I step away from the wall and walk right up to the middle of the room and approach her. If I can approach a girl at a dive bar, I can approach a girl here, right? What’s the difference?
“Does no one else here have the balls to tell you just how gorgeous you are?”
She whirls, causing her hair to spin, filling my nostrils with a wonderous perfume and scent that simply further causes my cock to stiffen. Her body is cloaked in red lingerie, causing her to look like a piece of delicious candy that I’m desperate to unwrap.
“Who me?” she responds, her voice like music and magic at the same time. “You think a man’s never told me I’m gorgeous before?”
She’s got fire in her. I like that. But I can’t handle the eyes on her in this room. Can’t handle the other men hearing us speak. She needs to be mine. I need her all to myself.
I reach in and take her by the wrist. “No doubt in my mind you have,” I whisper. “What’s your name?”
Her eyes widen as I pull her close. “Sapphire,” she replies. “And you better be careful with the merchandise, mister. You get too rough and they’ll toss your ass out.”
Sapphire? Yeah, and my name’s Rocky. But I get it. She’s not using her real name while she’s here. That’s fine.
“Don’t worry, Sapphire, I just want a little alone time with you,” I reply with a smile. “You can call me Russ. And I won’t hurt you, gorgeous. Unless you’re into that sort of thing, that is.”
